


Like Your Christ

by greenwildfyre



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Its fine after, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, St. Andrew's Cross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwildfyre/pseuds/greenwildfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Athelstan was praying alone, he didn't expect Lagertha and Ragnar to ask him to join them. And he didn't expect himself to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Your Christ

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfiction! And of course I dive into smut, hahaha. I've had this idea sitting around for a while. If there's anything I need to improve on please let me know, I hope to write more of these. I did not edit and revise this as thoroughly as I would've liked because unfortunately I don't have access to my laptop at the moment. Enjoy!

The priest knelt beside his wool covered bed and bent his head in prayer, noting the length of his hair as he lowered his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come,” were the only words he could say before he heard the floor creak in the hall behind him.  
It was clear to him what Lagertha and Ragnar were doing in the other room, it wasn’t like the walls provided much of a sound barrier, but Athelstan had tried to ignore it. And that was what lead him to be on his knees now.

“Athelstan,” came the insistent voice which took Athelstan out of his thoughts entirely. 

He turned to see Lagertha and Ragnar standing before him, Ragnar undressed, and Lagertha covered only in a blanket. His eyes, now wide with worry, remained focused on the male viking’s face.  
“We wanted to ask you something,” Ragnar whispered, moving his hand around his wife who said with a smile on her face, “Come and join us, priest.” 

“Come on,” Ragnar said nodding his head to the room. 

Athelstan felt a warmth start deep within him and recognizing it for the sin that it was, lowered his head. 

Ragnar lowered his voice and bent forward slightly noticing the priest’s discomfort, “Don’t you want to?” Athelstan thought the viking sounded genuinely confused at the thought that he might want to stay in this room than engage in whatever activities they were doing. To be truthful, Athelstan didn’t know much about the ways of men and women, not at all how a second man would fit.

“You’ll enjoy it,” Ragnar whispered out of the dim hall. Athelstan’s gaze moved from Ragnar’s intense look over to Lagertha’s smirk. Something in Ragnar’s voice was insistent, somehow correct even though Athelstan knew it was wrong. His hands tensed against the floor, his teeth chewing at his lip before he rose ever so slowly. 

“Come on priest,” Lagertha whispered in a soothing tone placing her hands on his trembling arms. “Just trust us.” She looked at him with insistent blue eyes. He stood up and gave her a shy smile embarrassed at everything he was feeling. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, following Ragnar back to their rooms, ignoring the hardening of his own member.

He shivered, and looked up as they entered the room where the vikings frequently coupled. A gasp escaped his chewed lips and he tried to turn quickly to leave but Lagertha seemed to have anticipated this and had gripped his arm tight. “Athelstan,” Ragnar called from across the room. “It's not what you think.”

Athelstan couldn't believe what he was hearing but he turned to look at the structure standing in the center of the room. The angled cross was taller than he was, smooth in texture as if it was oiled often. Leather straps hung from all four wooden arms and he looked at it mouth and eyes wide open. The cross seemed to have leapt out of the paintings in the books at the church. These were devices used for torture, not pleasure! Had they tricked him? 

He felt the warmth in his belly dissipate leaving only a cold, black dread. Then, he began to twist away from the grasp of Lagertha and managed to get free from one of her fingers before Ragnar had crossed the room grabbing his right arm turning him back to the one cross he did not want to see right now. 

“Athelstan, stop fighting,” Ragnar said, stressing each word. “This isn't what you think it is.” Lagertha only murmured in amusement, leading him to the cross. The priest continued to fight both of them but it was useless, they were too strong. They turned him around and held him against the cross with one hand each before reaching up and ripping off his religious clothing and started tying his arms down to the cross. He tensed, feeling the leather pull down tight over his wrists and a feeling of panic began to set in. He was exposed, vulnerable.

“Shhh, priest,” the shield maiden said, now reaching for his foot and tying it down to the wood the same way his arms were. When his other leg was tied down Ragnar came up and breathed lightly on his chest, “So good for us Athelstan, so pretty.”

His hands opened and closed in a vain attempt to escape the contraption. Blue eyes scanned the room wildly looking for some means of escape, but it was useless, they had pinned him down to the cross. His mind was confused. Ragnar was looking at him pleased, while Lagertha looked hungry.

“Just like your Christ,” Ragnar said placing a strong hand on the priest’s wrist pressing it into the wood. He looked quite proud of himself for the idea.

“More like St. Andrew,” Athelstan got out the words with a gasp, feeling is member harden once more at Ragnar’s touch before Lagertha reached over to turn his head so she could press her soft mouth to his tense one. That shut up him quick. She began to hum with pleasure into his mouth. Before he could react to the unfamiliar sensation she had pulled away smiling leaving his mouth warm and tingling. Then it was Ragnar’s turn to tease him, trailing a hand over his chest and pinching a nipple causing Athelstan to flush.

“Gods, the things we could do to him,” Lagertha breathed leaning in to lick and suck on the skin just above his collarbone.

‘I'm their slave,’ he thought slowly melting into the wooden cross, ‘I had no choice.’ He bit his reddened lips as Ragnar used his teeth to graze a hardened nipple. Lagertha began sucking red marks down the priest’s chest moving dangerously close to his straining cock. Ragnar took his mouth off of Athelstan and moved to the other side of the room with a twinkle in his eye causing Athelstan to whine at the loss. Lagertha hummed, “It seems the priest understands the cross now,” She said, going back to kissing his chest. Lagertha was right, Athelstan understood the cross. He was theirs, theirs with which to do whatever they wanted. He couldn't get out if he tried.

Ragnar returned with a rope in his hands, and just when he had wrapped it the base of his throbbing cock did he realise where exactly it came from. It was the rope that had been tied to his neck the day Ragnar had taken him.

“You're mine now,” the viking growled, pulling it a little tighter around him. The priest threw back his head and gasped rutting his hips, looking for some sort of release. 

“He is ever so needy when you tease him,” came Lagertha’s voice growing fainter and fainter. Athelstan noticed that she had gone to the furs on her bed and had begun to watch her husband play with him. The priest flushed deeper. 

“Athelstan, oh gorgeous priest,” Ragnar said nosing at the dark curls above his cock. The viking lowered his head breathing warm air on his hard cock causing Athelstan to tremble. A hot tongue swept over his dripping slit making his hips stutter before Ragnar gripped his hips pushing him roughly against the cross. He slowly took Athelstan into his mouth and looked up. Athelstan lowered his head for reasons other than shame and began to moan. He never knew that something so sinful could feel so good and somehow nothing was stopping him. Nothing could stop him.

“Ragnar!” he let out a strangled cry as the other man had moved to sucking on his head. He could feel himself getting close but at the same time it felt so far away. “I need to--” his muscles jerked in the restraints. Ragnar’s laughter buzzing around his sensitive prick definitely didn't help. Thankfully, he was generous and Ragnar took the rope away before closing his eyes and moaning into it. Athelstan looked down noticing one hand gone from Athelstan’s hip and busy between Ragnar’s legs. At the vision before him, he tried to move away from Ragnar at the sudden jolt of pleasure that had gone between his own legs and he finished, hot inside Ragnar’s mouth, yelling out in his native tongue. He vaguely heard a second, more womanly moan shortly after.

Athelstan was dazed and the only evidence he had of Ragnar coming was the warmth he felt on one of his feet. He panted, in time with Ragnar’s heavy breaths basking in the afterglow of one of the best but also the strangest experience of his life. His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment when he felt a rough mouth over his. “You're quick, priest,” he said between kisses. Athelstan nodded slightly, eyes still glazed from what just happened and tried his hardest to will his lips to move with Ragnars. He somewhat succeeded and began feeling a warmth radiate from his face to his chest. He gasped as he felt a tongue enter his mouth and responded with his own massaging it slowly. Ragnar pulled back, “You're so pretty, priest, so good to me.” He pressed a thumb to Athelstan’s cheek affectionately, after saying the words the priest was already growing to love. He hoped he could hear them for many moons to come.


End file.
